Underwhelmed

Weigh-in day.

I confess, I was secretly hoping that last week's bump up had been a twitch of the scale and that this week I'd have one of those suspiciously large losses that made the two-week average into something perfectly reasonable. It's happened before, several times. And this week, all my bras are on their third (tightest) row of hooks, which was promising.

For the last three days, my unofficial morning weigh-in has been 192.8, which isn't a large loss, but it was respectable. It would have meant that last week's gain was honest, but that I was firmly back on track. And it would have put me, officially, at 80 pounds lost. So if I couldn't have my secret hope, this was a perfectly acceptable fallback, and this is, hopes aside, more or less what I was expecting.

Instead, I got on the scale this morning and found 193.2. Not quite enough to make the 80 pound mark (79.8). Exactly one pound lost from last week, a grand total of 0.2 pounds lost over the last two weeks.

...The hell? What did I do yesterday that made me gain half a pound? Nothing, that's what. I've been really good this week, trying to make up for the Hungry Hippo weekend I had. Was it the three Tums I ate at three this morning to dispel a (likewise inexplicable) case of heartburn? Do Tums make you retain water or something?

Sigh.

I know I said I'd just be happy to lose what I'd gained last week, but if anyone believed me, they should probably get their heads examined. I'm not quite ready to kick puppies over it, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little... underwhelmed.